Fragmentations
by threebroomstickz
Summary: Everything was going fine until Harry turned to look at Draco. His expression was unreadable, his breathing uneven. From there, he kissed Draco on the lips and said, "wait for me." In a hushed tone. He didn't explain, Draco was frantic. Then, there was a huge explosion and Harry ran over to the scene. There was no goodbye. There was nothing. Drarry oneshot. 8th year.


**All characters belong to J.K. Rowling**

 **Enjoy the story!**

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 **Fragmentations**

Harry's hand curled around the bottle.

He's never been much of a drinker. Hell, he hasn't had a drink ever in his life, butterbeer hardly counted. But, here he was in front of the fireplace with Draco Malfoy by his side.

They always sat in silence. The only sounds were crackling flames accompanied by the swooshing sounds of burning liquor. This has somehow become a routine thing. Draco would be sitting in the common room with a near empty bottle, then Harry would wander down the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory because he couldn't sleep again.

Harry never questioned Draco the first night he caught him. Instead, he took the initiative to take a seat next to him without the sound of protest. Draco didn't say a word, neither did Harry. The only thing that seemed to be screaming was the bottle of firewhiskey the Slytherin placed down between them. Harry looked down at the bottle, he was not sure if he should take it or not. He was stumped, for sure. But, after a few more minutes of staring at it, he picked it up and chugged down as much drink as he could without being sick.

This encounter continued for a few more nights. Draco would be in front of the fireplace, then Harry would come down the stairs and take his seat next to him. Draco would even think that he was starting to enjoy the other boy's company. He enjoyed it because there was no talking. There were no questions. There was no judgement. Sometimes when his anxiety would reach its peak, he would take a look at Harry and then feel a cool wave of relief wash all over him.

However, their encounters stopped. Draco would sit in front of the fireplace every night like usual with his bottle untouched. He would wait for the sounds of footsteps to echo down the stairs. He would wait for him to take his seat next to him so that he could feel the warmth the fireplace could not give him. He would wait to have those silent conversations that he didn't even know he would miss.

He would just wait.

More alcohol would pour down his throat, his eyes now heavy. The bottle has become his comfort for every night Harry didn't arrive to be with him.

The nights continued to pass by. Still no sign of Harry's return. It was officially two weeks after the war, and Draco stopped trying. He didn't see a point of waiting for him to finally come back. His fingers tightly gripped the bottle until his knuckles were as white as snow. He chugged the whiskey until there was nothing but a single drop left.

Then, he would welcome back that familiar sensation. His eyes would get heavy, his stomach would tingle, his throat would burn.

His whole world would go black. Draco welcomed the darkness with open arms. In the dark, he would see a whole motion picture of memories only he could access and see. Draco would walk towards those memories and watch them with a blank expression on his face.

The one that he would often return to was one that shown him and Harry together on the battlefield hand and hand. Curse after curse, they would never separate. They always had each other backs.

Everything was going fine until Harry turned to look at Draco. His expression was unreadable, his breathing uneven. From there, he kissed Draco on the lips and said, "wait for me." In a hushed tone. He didn't explain, Draco was frantic. Then, there was a huge explosion and Harry ran over to the scene. There was no goodbye. There was nothing.

Draco didn't know what to do. He raised his wand back up to be ready for anyone trying to attack. He turned to watch Harry's blurred silhouette disappear behind the horizon.

He knew that memory like the back of his hand. Every time he looked back, it would seem that he's added a new part. But, that would matter because even though the image would change the pain would still feel the same.

Suddenly, there was a touch that awoken Draco from his drunken state. He slowly opened his eyes and only saw a blurry figure that was beginning to shape and resemble the person he's been waiting for. He blinked once to focused his vision.

His face fell.

Hermione was standing over him. Her face warm, but her eyes sad. She tentatively stretched her hand out to place it on Draco's thin shoulder. "Draco..."

"Wait for me, he said." His words came out slurred. Draco's eyes began to burn.

The girl's expression soften. Her motherly instincts kicked in and she wrapped her arms tightly around his fragile figure. Draco's breathing hitched, a tear escaped, then several more followed. He was too preoccupied to worry about whatever Malfoy pride he had left.

"Where is he?" He cried out into Hermione's shoulder.

She tried her best to hush his cries for help. Any other person would have felt awkward to have a crying Malfoy on their shoulder. Hermione just felt sad and helpless. Her heart ached every time his body would jolt up due to a hiccup.

"He's gone. He left so he could save us." She whispered softly into his ear. Her hand was making small circles around Draco's back.

"I loved him." he hiccupped.

"We all did." Hermione said, her voice quivering. They both stayed in their positions until Draco fell asleep. Only the tear streaks on his cheeks were evidence that he's been crying.

Hermione stared off into the dimly lit fireplace. She blinked away a tear and turned her attention to Draco's sleeping body.

"And he loved you." She said.

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 **I hope you enjoyed this really quick story I wrote. Please review because feedback is greatly appreciated!**


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